I jolt out of my daydream and straighten up in my seat. “Can we stop at the service station before you take me home?”
“Sure.”
We pull out of the parking lot and turn right after the lights, then turn left into the service station. Conner parks in the same spot where I saw his car last night.
I unbuckle my seatbelt, and he does the same when I suddenly say, “Can you stay here, please? I won’t be long.”
“I was going to the toilet,” he answers, smirking.
“Oh…” Heat flushes my cheeks. “Sorry.”
The toilets are outside the service station. I wait until Conner is out of view before I grab the pack of beer and head to the register. James tightens his smile as he scans the alcohol. I find it difficult to look him in the eye as I tap my card against the EFTPOS to approve my purchase.
After he bags it, I leave the service station.
As I leave the store, Conner exits the toilet. His brimming smile falters the closer he gets to me. And I’m not an idiot. I notice it pretty quickly as he realises what I have in my hands.
I don’t know why, but this gnawing guilt stirs in me.
I stuff the pack into my bag when I enter the car. Conner doesn’t say a word. He’s silent as he pulls out of the car park and heads towards my street.
Now,thissilence isn’t comforting. I’m on edge, and it’s because Conner is leaning away from me as if there isn’t enough distance in this car.
8
I LIKE YOU
I bitemy lip and suppress the tears from leaking out.
I shouldn’t have to tell Conner to appease him. This is for the best. What he is doing is what I want.
I want Conner to stop speaking to me. Opening my old wounds is something I don’t want him to do.
This is what I want, isn’t it?
He parks in front of the home he assumes is mine. Mrs Crawford is awake. The living room light protrudes from the slit in the curtains.
To make it worse, she peeks through the blinds to watch us.
“Is that your mum?” he asks.
“No. My grandma,” I lie. “She, uh…can’t live by herself—and she doesn’t like the old folks’ home.”
It’s not necessarily that much of a lie. Mrs Crawford has told everyone on our street that she refuses to give up her late husband’s home.
“Can I ask you something, Noya?”
I don’t like where this is going.
When I don’t respond, he asks, “Who is that beer for? I thought it was for Sammy, and that maybe you two weresneaking off to bum around at the park. But when you noticed me noticing you holding the beer, you looked hurt. Besides, Sammy doesn’t live nearby. I saw her get on a different bus from yours.” Conner furrows his brow as he shakes his head. “I can’t think of anyone else you’d buy beer for until it is actually just for you.”
“You’re right.”
“You see, I can’t believe that, Noya.” Conner rests his arm on my chair and leans closer towards me. “You’re lying to me, and the more you lie, the more I want to know what you’re hiding.”
“Why? Why, Conner?” The tears I try to hold in spill onto my cheeks, and I clutch my bag with trembling hands.
Conner leans back, raises his hands, then settles them on the steering wheel. “I don’t know. I guess because I like you.”